Friday, 14 March 2008

Quiet night.

Ben is going to party his way through the weekend. Two people have already sent me some photos that I deleted without opening the files. Maybe to get me to rescue him, maybe to rub it in. I'm not sure.

I sent for the courier and had his ring and his chip sent to him express. It cost a fortune but he should have them now or shortly. I'm not playing games and I can't give even an ounce of my fledgling heart to someone I can't depend on. Sure, I trust him. But not with everything.

And the devil himself showed up on my doorstep a little while ago. I didn't answer the door and so he called me and I answered the phone but I didn't say anything. He asked if I wanted to come out to play. I continued the silence and he tried some other tactics, including telling me he knew how others were spending their weekends, meaning he knew what Ben was doing. He proceeded to fill me in in excruciating detail until I finally said just stop. Then he softened a little bit and asked if I just wanted company, that he could come in and we could have some dinner and just talk and he sounded like his brother and my hand was on the goddamned knob. I was going to let Caleb in. His games are predictable. I can take them or leave them. I know what to expect from him.

But that's just it. I know what to expect from him. I pressed END on my phone. I took my hand off the knob and backed away from the door. I walked out of the foyer and down the hall to the den where I flipped on a few lights and drew the heavy drapes across the wall of windows. I made sure the door was locked and I sat down at the desk.

Equilibrist, sideshow freak, carnival rat, sugarbaby. Wife, widow, mom. Homesick Maritimer. Hearing impaired. Polydangerous. Pain in the ass. I've been all of those things. I'm still all of those things. I live in a collective of intentional family (AKA commune to you romantic folk) and write about boy-moments that happen here at home on an almost daily basis. Enjoy.